He is Love

You can’t claim love Until it calls at 3am Bursting open Like a window with flame Or when the hunger settles in And a plate doesn’t suffice the craving When love calls in the morning It wakes so gently Tingling in your toes Vastly spreading to your lungs Where you would take a breath As…

Poetry repaired

We destruct to repair  Remake Reshape  Abbreviating life Watching her dissolve As mandkind takes Spitting fire on her canvas  While existing to create

For my Wave

Then the sun set with the sea  And the warmth settled with the stillness Like you do with me. 

The Spark

I used to question my purpose in life Until I realized  I am the purpose of life. 


A novel should be created  From the existence of his lips But there is no book And the ink has no pigment. 


Expressing emotions exaggerating lines what the mouth can’t pronounce  with the minds design.

The rise 

There is no real ending, only the knowledge we have on the idea that an ending exists. Awaken, it’s time. 


The soul I had seen a thousand and one times   never on this earth The soul whom I’ve searched for in each life to find  The ora surrounding this extravagant creation this beautiful mind As his lips speak honey  and suddenly I’m blind This portrait of perfection such an intricate design Complex is this spirit…


Now I realize why lovers cry Separated for a day Feels like dying 

The reason I lived 

Dream deep Fall steeper  How could it exist  This love  As our colors combine And we fall to the edge  Painted crimson on his lips As the sparks rise gently  Fusing straight to my skin